


I don't have to tell you, do I?

by JHarkness



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Post-Canon, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-14 11:41:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3409265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JHarkness/pseuds/JHarkness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eggsy doesn't feel much a hero, sitting there in the medical wing and thinking of Harry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I don't have to tell you, do I?

**Author's Note:**

> From a Tumblr prompt: i would really love if you would do a hartwin fic with harry telling eggsy he's proud of him, kind of touching upon the fight that they had before harry... Well, you know. This would be after that, you can do it anyway you like, with him unexplainably alive or through a note or something.

Eggsy picked at his sleeve tiredly, removing the most minute of JB’s hairs as he waited for Merlin to complete his scans. The man was incessant--barely a breath had been taken before the younger Kingsman was being pulled to the medical wing. Something about the near-death situation and possible end of the world had him on edge.

 

The lights were alarmingly bright, pricking at Eggsy’s eyes as he contemplated the exact location of the wing in relation to the overt world above. He ignored the passing remarks made by nurses and other agents as they were shouted through the door at Roxy and himself. Responses were unnecessary, as more concern was given to acknowledging the heroes than caring for them.

 

And anyway, Eggsy didn’t feel quite a hero anymore.

 

He was exhausted. Stomach empty and brain foggy, all he wanted was a twenty-hour nap and a four-hour meal. Correction: needed. Beneath the enquiring gaze of his fellow Kingsman, he felt like a specimen. All he wanted was to to be left alone.

 

Accent thick, words slurred out of Eggsy’s mouth.“You can sod off, really; I’m fine.” As soon as the sentence had slipped past his tired tongue, he regretted saying anything. Roxy glared at him from the corner of the room, body hidden by numerous blankets. ‘Arsehole,’ she mouthed. Eggsy was inclined to agree.

 

“Is that right?” Merlin prodded his chest, and a sharp pain erupted beneath his skin.

 

Eggsy grunted in surprise, fingers coiling reflexively into the sheets. Certainly he had expected a few bruises from the fight, but nothing serious. The muscles across his torso spasmed uncomfortably, and he groaned.

 

Merlin snickered. “Tender?”

 

Eyebrows lifted in smug victory, the older man went back to his prodding. “Wanker,” Eggsy finally sighed, but it was good-natured. He settled back on the bed to which he had been assigned, allowing Merlin to assess his blood pressure as he closed his eyes. Roxy hummed quietly in the corner, some tune that he couldn’t place but made him grin nonetheless. He figured it was something Harry would absolutely despise.

 

Harry.

 

Abruptly, Eggsy’s body struggled against the hand that was wrapped around his wrist, monitoring his pulse. “I--Harry--” The words lodged in his throat, choking him. Eggsy coughed as if he were still in the mountains, snow turning his blood to ice. Except instead of snow, this was a memory. A face, torn apart by merciless metal; blood, pooling on the ground; dirt, settling around a fallen body.

 

“Eggsy? Eggsy.”

He to realize that the room was spinning. Everything sounded like an echo, faint and far away like the world was underwater. Merlin’s concerned face blurred, and he saw Roxy toss her covers aside as she staggered uneasily out of the bed. He lifted his arm, suddenly heavy, to wave her off, and blinked slowly as he noticed a needle slipping under the skin on his forearm. “Bloody hell,” he managed.

 

And then the room went dark.

 

…

 

 

It was hours before he came round. An oxygen tube was fixed to his face, and he sniffed uncomfortably, face scrunching against the foreign plastic piece.

Eggsy twisted his head to see Roxy, eyes alert and mouth moving. It took the other Kingsman a few seconds of squinting and focus to discern her words; “--and I cannot believe you vkklyly we were all so worried ykgl and then--”

 

“Rox.” Her name scratched its way from his lungs. “I ain’t got one clue as to what you’re trying to tell me.”  Before his friend could respond, Eggsy swallowed and brushed his hair back. “God, I’m knackered. What’d Merlin do, drug me?”

 

Roxy took his hand sheepishly. Eggsy’s mouth opened in an incredulous gasp, and he sat up. When his chest constricted, he stopped, wincing.

 

“You sustained some internal injuries that we didn’t catch until your return to base. Your adrenaline levels were just so high, and of course you were focused on, well, other things at the time, what with bumming a princess and all.” She smirked.

 

“You dog, you,” Eggsy reciprocated. He squeezed her hand gently, grinning. When her expression clouded, that grin faltered.

 

“What? Give us a hand, here. I ain’t dyin’, yeah?” He glanced to the side, noting the absence of the machines he had seen when Harry was in his coma.

 

There it was once more; that burning grief. Eggsy felt it sink into his stomach like deadweight. “Harry?” He asked, because he knew. He bloody knew from the way Roxy shifted in her chair and twisted the ring on her finger. From the way she looked at him; calculating, like he was a smoking gun with its own metal wrapped around the trigger.

 

The corner of something white revealed itself from her pocket. Voice strained, Eggsy whispered, “Let’s have a look.”

 

Roxy extracted it hesitantly, fingers light on the parchment. He could see cursive in jet black ink on the front and a red seal pressed elegantly on the back. It looked official, not personal, and Eggsy’s confusion only deepened.

 

It passed into his fingers slowly. Roxy continued to shift her gaze from the paper to Eggsy’s face, watching; waiting. He laughed. “Give us a smile, Rox. I’m not going to go mad on ya’.” A hand reached out to his wrist, an affirmative and a warning.

 

“Just so you know, I won’t leave if you start getting emotional or something. You’ll have to suck it up. I don’t care for your pride.”

 

Eyebrows furrowed, he tilted his head to her but said nothing. Instead, Eggsy fixed his gaze on the elegant words gracing the note’s creamy surface.

 

_My dearest Eggsy_

 

His heart stopped. White noise flooded his ears, and he felt his lungs expel all the breaths he had in his body. Panicked, he looked to Roxy for support, an explanation, anything. She only nodded for him to continue.

 

Despite his eagerness, Eggsy opened the letter slowly, cherishing the feeling of the parchment against his battle-calloused fingers. He supposed he should have guessed it was Harry right off, what with the actual use of a seal and proper stationary. He swallowed.

 

_I will spare the clichés and formalities. There is no doubt that you understand why you are reading this. I will also spare the lies, meant to dissuade or otherwise rebuff you._

_What I will say is that I am immensely proud of you. I do not believe I managed to get around to that earlier, when I left you only with my computer and a stuffed dog. Indeed, I have always been proud of you. I don’t care that you refused to shoot that damn dog, and I am, in fact, quite glad that you didn’t._

_There are far too many things I should have told you. Things that, perhaps, should not be written in this letter. Things I should have said aloud. I suppose it’s rather late for all of that now._

_What it is not too late to express is something that I have been meaning to say since your exercise in loyalty._

  
_I do think I love you, Gary Unwin._

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to add more prompts in the comments, or send an ask to daughtersofthanos.tumblr.com! This ship hit me hard.


End file.
